Aftermath
by T'Reilani
Summary: Why did Ratchet live through the loss of his sparkmate? The answer is two words: His promise. Includes one small OC and a could-be-canon-but-isn't pairing. Echo-verse.


**Aftermath**

**Author:** T'Reilani

**Rating:** T for descriptions of the results of violence and heavy angst.

**Pairing(s): **Ratchet/Moonracer

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except Echo.

**A/N: Takes place before To Protect And Heal (obviously). Echo is about the equivalent of a human two or three year old. **

_*flashback*_

Smoke rises from small fissures in the ground, mingling with the eerie glow from heated metal. Overhead, red clouds slowly fade to grey. A few drops of rain hit the ground, dissolving immediately into small wisps of steam. Twisted metal frames, barely resembling the mechs and femmes they were only hours ago, litter the ground like so much debris. Some hang in the air, impaled on the weapons that killed them; others are crumpled under the shattered remnants of their weaponry. Still others are no longer even recognizable as bodies, shredded and twisted by explosions. Even more will never be seen again, crushed to dust under rubble from the buildings that used to stand proudly.

Across the harsh landscape, a single mech stumbles, the red and white of his paint almost invisible under a layer of scrapes, dents, dried energon, and smoke stains. One arm dangles limply at his side, twisted at an awkward angle; the other is held close against his chestplates, cradling a small bundle protectively.

As he limps forward, his optics remain focused on the horizon, but every now and then loose tears spill down his face, leaving tracks of clean white in the smudges. His left pede slips in a small pool of energon, and he falls to one knee, head dropping for a moment as he groans quietly from the pain in his spark.

Then his optics settle on the small form in his arms, and he raises his head in determination. No matter how badly he is hurting, he will take care of _her_. He will live for _her_. Each is all the other has now. If he offlines, if he gives up, if he gives in, there is no one left to care for her. No one to keep her safe. No one to teach her what it means to be a true Autobot.

No one to save her from meeting the same fate as the others around them.

With renewed resolve, he pushes himself back upright and forces himself to move onward, toward his allies. Toward safety, for _her_.

He stumbles again, this time on a body. He sees the face, damaged, marked with energon and smoke stains, but still identifiable as that of a femme. So young. Perhaps a first battle. Did she have a family? Creators? Siblings? A sparkmate?

Memories rush back, overwhelming his CPU and forcing him to his knees again.

_*...The brilliant green femme hurries toward him, calling... "Ratchet!"...Her paint is already streaked with smoke, as is that of the small sparkling in her arms...He looks around; so many need him, but he can spare one moment for the two who need him most..._

_..."Moonracer, it's not safe here! Hurry, take Echo and go to the shelter!"...He has to shout over the sound of gunfire, the clash of metal on metal, the screams..._

_...Moonracer reaches his side, holds him for a moment, clutching their small daughter close..."It's too late, love, the shelter's gone...I have to help evacuate, you have to take Echo, just take care of her for now..." He stares, not believing what he's hearing..._

_"No..."He takes his daughter in his arms all the same, cradling her protectively as she wraps her little arms around him...she's so tiny, so helpless... "Moon, she needs you..."_

_...Moonracer shakes her head, tears in her beautiful optics..."No, Ratchet, Cybertron needs us both...but I won't take my daughter into a battle...I can't...and I can't leave her...promise me you'll look after her..."_

_...He knows she's right, they have no choice...war is cruel, forcing this on them..."I promise...she'll be safe with me..."_

_...Moonracer smiles, reaches up to kiss him..."I know...you'll protect her...I love you both..." Then she leaves, running toward the battlefield..._

_...and he sees it coming, the shot, and he calls her name, all other sounds fading..._

_...but the shot strikes the rocks just behind her...they fall, slowly, so slowly, surrounding her, crushing her..._

_...Echo starts to cry, reaching out for the rocks..."Mommy...Mommy, come back..."_

_...and then he is crying too, pain ripping through his spark , even as he tries to comfort his daughter, his only family now..._

_"It's alright, little one, Daddy's here..."_

_...and then another shot rockets over his head, and he ducks back, taking shelter under a few pieces of a building, as the rocks crash down around them, not crushing them, sealing them in...*_

Ratchet gasps, struggling to maintain his control, trying to hold on, even as raindrops fall faster now, as though the sky is crying with him. His daughter needs him. She needs him to be strong. She has no one else now.

The sparkling has been mercifully recharging for hours, but now she wakes up, blue optics onlining as she whimpers softly. "Daddy...I'm scared."

Ratchet pulls her closer with his good arm, resting his cheek against the little gold fin on her forehead.

"It's alright, my little Echo. It's alright. I'll keep you safe."

He will, always.

Because he made a promise.


End file.
